


Everlasting Moon

by purple_mangosteen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drama, M/M, Master of Death Harry Potter, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-19
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-02-26 05:51:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2640449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purple_mangosteen/pseuds/purple_mangosteen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Assassination attempt at 221B Baker Street reveals the secret of Holmes family. And John gets to meet the infamous Mummy who turns out to be the eternally young Harry Potter. Master of Death Harry Potter. Slash. Established Mycroft Holmes/Harry Potter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Sherlock Holmes and properties are owned by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Sherlock and properties are owned by BBC One, Mark Gatiss and Steven Moffat. Harry Potter and properties are owned by JK Rowling. I don't make money from writing this fanfiction. The story contains spoiler for both Sherlock and Harry Potter. Also there are quotes from novel, TV series, wikipedia and other sources.

 

**Everlasting Moon**

 

Chapter I

 

Oh, no! No, no,no! Sherlock Holmes thought frantically as he tried to save his best friend, Dr. John Watson. Sherlock didn't return to this. He didn't spend three months destroying Moriarty's crime empire so he could keep his friend safe only to witness John died in front of him. Technically, Mycroft's men did the most work since Mummy was furious with the whole Moriarty thing. And Mycroft, always eager to please his beloved, quickly wiped out the threat to his younger brother.

Sherlock and John just returned from the crime scene. Who would have thought that the assassin had crept into 221B Baker Street through a window in a mission to kill them? The assassin failed and was killed in the process. But before that, the assassin managed to hurt John with poisonous dagger. And now, John was lying on the sofa with pale blue face, ragged breaths and cold skin.

"John!" he shook his best friend's body frantically. "You can't die! You can't die yet!"

John's lips were moving.  _I'm sorry, Sherlock_ . He said.

No! It wasn't John fault. What should Sherlock do? He couldn't let his best friend die. Something, anything. He had to save John, no matter what happened. Making his decision, Sherlock ran to his bedroom to find an antidote for the poison. He had kept it in secret place. Place that Mrs. Hudson and John couldn't find. There it was! He grabbed the vial and ran back to the living room where he force fed John the antidote.

The effect was instant. Colour returned to John's face. His breathing also went back to normal. Wrinkles faded from his face. And from experience, Sherlock knew that every scar on John's body also healed.

The doctor opened his eyes. "Sherlock?" he asked hesitantly.

John was alive. All that mattered to Sherlock was his best friend was still alive.

John slowly resumed sitting position. He looked at his hand and paused. His hand looked younger. And not only his hand. He stared at his reflection on the nearest surface. He also looked younger and healthier. His shoulder also didn't hurt anymore. What had Sherlock done?

"What did you feed me, Sherlock?" he asked. His voice was calm, like always when he was under pressure.

"Yes, Sherlock, do tell." Came the annoying voice of Mycroft Holmes.

Sherlock groaned. His elder brother was really fast this time. "Go away, Mycroft!" he barked out.

Mycroft ignored him. "Do you have any idea of what you have just done?" The elder Holmes asked coldly. His expression tight with anger.

John had never seen Mycroft looked like this.

"I have to save John," Sherlock replied in equal cold tone.

"You compromise Mummy's safety!" Mycroft exploded.

"I would never endanger Mummy!" Sherlock replied, enraged by Mycroft's accusation. How dare Mycroft was to suggest such thing. Sherlock loved Mummy dearly. Mummy was the one who raised him ever since he was three years old. Mummy loved him like a son. Sherlock wasn't like Mycroft, who lust after Mummy ever since he hit puberty.

Mycroft took a deep breath. "This isn't a place to discuss this," he said at last.

"No, it isn't." Sherlock replied curtly.

Mycroft glanced briefly at the dead body of the assassin who tried to kill him and Sherlock. "I have to take care of this too." He drawled.

"Well, you have to be useful somehow." Sherlock said snidely.

Mycroft looked at him coldly. "My car is waiting outside," he said.

"Lead the way then," Sherlock replied.

"What is going on in here?" John asked. He was confused by the Mycroft and Sherlock’s behaviour. They were hiding something from him.

"Later, John." Sherlock said.

The journey to the safe house was tense. Both Sherlock and Mycroft were staring at each other coldly. John was confused as hell. What was going on in here? And more importantly, what did Sherlock feed him? John felt ultimate cold. He couldn't move this body. He honestly thought that he was going to die. But after the mysterious drink Sherlock gave him, then he suddenly was fine. The drink tasted heavenly. It wasn't like anything John had drank before. And the effect... he felt warm, alive, energized. He had never felt anything like that before.

The car stopped and John switched his thought to his present surroundings. They got out from the car and entered the magnificent mansion. Their destination was Mycroft's study. Or at least, John assumed that it was Mycroft's study.

"I'm going to call Mummy," Sherlock stated suddenly. "Mummy would understand."

Mycroft gave Sherlock withering glare.

Sherlock ignored him. He then left the study, probably to call his mother.

"I'm afraid that I'm needed to explain Sherlock's reckless act to Mummy." Mycroft said after a few moments of silence. "Now, if you'll excuse me."

John was left alone.

Fifteen minutes later, Mycroft and Sherlock returned. They looked better, at least for Sherlock part. His flatmate looked relaxed and happy. Mycroft still looked annoyed.

"I apologize for the waiting, John." Mycroft said. He was always the polite one.

"Would any of you explain what is going on in here?" John asked. He was tired being left in the dark.

Mycroft gave him a measuring glance. "Well, at least he is trustworthy," he drawled out.

"Of course John is trustworthy!" Sherlock said.

"I'm sitting right here," John muttered in annoyance.

"Elixir of Life," Sherlock said suddenly.

"What?"

"The Elixir of Life saved your life. Otherwise you're going to die."

"Elixir of Life?" John asked, frowning. "Like in those movies?" The elixir of life, also known as elixir of immortality and sometimes equated with the philosopher's stone, was a mythical potion that, when drunk from a certain cup at a certain time, supposedly granted the drinker eternal life and/or eternal youth.

"Yes." Sherlock confirmed.

"Is this a joke?" he asked.

Sherlock and Mycroft stared at him.

"Okay," he said.

"I must say that his reaction is better than what I hope for," Mycroft drawled.

"It's the shock talking, Mycroft." Sherlock commented.

John glared at both of them. "After spending two years as your flatmate, I think I'm quite immune to everything now." He had been kidnapped by criminal mastermind and strapped with Semtex. He exhaled hallucination gas at government facility. His best friend faked his death for three months. John didn't think he could get shocked now.

"It's a logical conclusion," Mycroft said.

Sherlock gave his brother a dirty look.

"Does the elixir mean that I'm immortal now?" John asked because he had to know. The drinker always became immortal in the movies.

"No," Sherlock replied. "You will never die as long as you drink it."

"Surely you understand that this is a secret on the highest level," Mycroft said.

John nodded. "But, what is your mother connection with all of this?" he asked in genuine confusion. Sherlock and Mycroft kept talking about their mother.

"I got the elixir from Mummy," Sherlock explained.

"Is she a scientist or something?" he asked.

Sherlock and Mycroft exchanged amused look.

"He is a wizard," Sherlock supplied.

John blinked. Was Sherlock serious? This was too much for John. Was this a dream? John secretly pinched his arm. It hurt. He pinched his arm again. It hurt. Okay, so this wasn't a dream then.

There was a knock on the door. It opened to reveal a handsome young man with amber eyes and jet black hair.

"Hello Sherlock, Mycroft and Dr. Watson," the newcomer greeted them.

John merely nodded.

"I'm Teddy Lupin. It's nice to meet you, John. I've heard so much about you." Teddy said.

"Teddy is my god brother," Sherlock explained. "We grew up together."

Teddy nodded at that. That was new information for John. Mummy, god brother, what was next?

"Teddy," Mycroft interrupted.

"Sorry, Mycroft," Teddy said. "Well, are we ready then?" he asked.

"Yes," Mycroft drawled.

"Good," Teddy said. He took out a ballpoint from his pocket and held it.

Sherlock and Mycroft touched the ballpoint.

"Well, come on, John." Sherlock said. "We're going to see Mummy." He sounded happy at that.

Confused, John touched the ballpoint. What were they doing anyway?

"To the eternal city." Teddy said and a second later, they were whisked away.

 

Author's Note:

 

This is my seventh Sherlock Harry Potter crossover fic. In this fic, Mycroft and Sherlock were raised by Harry but they weren't his biological sons. Being ten year old genius with mature mind when Harry began to take care of them, Mycroft never ever once considered Harry as his parent, unlike Sherlock who consider Harry as his parent.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Sherlock Holmes and properties are owned by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Sherlock and properties are owned by BBC One, Mark Gatiss and Steven Moffat. Harry Potter and properties are owned by JK Rowling. I don't make money from writing this fanfiction. The story contains spoiler for both Sherlock and Harry Potter. Also there are quotes from novel, TV series, wikipedia and other sources.

 

**Everlasting Moon**

 

Chapter II

John didn't know how to explain about what had just happened. One moment he was in Mycroft's study and the next moment he was standing in the middle of pomegranate orchard.

"Where are we?" he asked. Teddy mentioned about Eternal City but…

"Rome," Sherlock said.

“What?” he asked, frowning.

“Come.” Mycroft led them through the orchard. They reached open space and Mycroft gestured him to the scenery.

John gasped at the sight. Apparently, they were located in some high place because he could see the aerial view of Rome, bathed in the light.

"This villa is located in Quirinal hill, the largest and highest of the eternal city seven hills." Teddy explained.

“Eternal city?” he repeated.

“Rome was known as the Eternal City even among the ancient Romans themselves. It was so called because the Roman people thought that no matter what happened to the world, no matter how many other empires might rise and fall, Rome would go on forever.” Mycroft said. “Imperium sine fine, an empire without end. A fitting place, isn’t it?”

Mycroft and Sherlock exchanged look.

What did he miss? And more importantly, how the hell they ended up in here while a minute ago he was in London?

"We were in London a minute ago!" he protested.

Teddy gave Mycroft and Sherlock confused look.

Mycroft shook his head.

Teddy raised his eyebrow but he explained. "We took Portkey. It is an object enchanted to instantly bring anyone touching it to a specific location."

"But how?"

"Magic." Someone said.

The newcomer was a young man with jet black hair and bright green eyes. He was dressed in simple white shirt and black trouser.

"Mummy." Sherlock's face broke into smile.

John stared in disbelief. Mummy? This was Mummy?

"Sherlock," the young man proceeded to hug his son.

Sherlock hugged him back affectionately. Okay, Sherlock's attitude had reached to whole new disturbing level.

"Hi, Harry." Teddy said.

The young man, whose name was Harry, turned to Teddy the next. "And how is my godson doing?" he asked, smiling.

"I'm doing well." Teddy replied, smiling back at his godfather.

"Mycroft," Harry turned his attention to the elder Holmes.

"Harry." Mycroft took Harry's right hand and kissed it. He said a few things too but since it was in Latin, John didn't understand a word. During the exchange, Mycroft didn't let go Harry's hand at all. It was really weird.

Then Harry turned to him. "Dr. John Watson. We met at last. I've heard so much about you." He said warmly. "I'm Harry Potter. Just call me Harry."

"It’s nice to meet you, Harry." He said diplomatically. "And please call me John."

Harry smiled. "Thank you for taking care of Sherlock all this time. I worry about him constantly."

"It's fine." John said.

"Well, I'm sure you have a lot of questions. We can discuss it inside." Harry said.

It was about time, John thought as he followed Harry to the living room.

"Sherlock has explained it to me." Harry said once they were seated. "The Elixir grants the drinker an indefinitely extended life, for as long as they keep drinking it regularly. A person that relies on the Elixir will die if they cannot obtain more Elixir before the last quantity imbibed wears off. And one more thing, once you drink the Elixir, you won't be able to have a child."

"What?" John asked. "Sherlock!" he rounded on his flatmate.

"What?" Sherlock asked defensively. "You can't have a child if you're dead." He said coldly.

John deflated. It was true. He almost dead.

"John," Harry said softly. "Even though you can't have a child of your own, it doesn't mean that you can't have a child. I have Sherlock and Teddy and I love them as my own children."

Sherlock smiled at this statement.

"Right, I'm sorry." He said earnestly.

"It's fine," Harry said.

"Are you the one who create the Elixir of Life?" he asked curiously.

"Oh, no." Harry said, smiling. "A friend of mine did."

"And you're a wizard?" he asked.

"Yes." Harry said. He nodded at Teddy.

Teddy took out a long stick and pointed it at the table. He waved the stick and said some Latin words. The table transformed into baby elephant. Teddy waved his stick again and the baby elephant transformed into blossoming cherry blossom tree. He waved the stick again and this time the tree transformed back into table.

"That was amazing." John blurted out.

Harry smiled at his reaction.

Sherlock looked very smug.

"Magic does exist," Harry said. "We have our own society and our own rule."

"And all of you have this Elixir?" he asked curiously.

"No," Harry replied. "In fact, this is a secret. I do hope you understand the reason why we guard it fiercely."

The elixir that could make man live forever. What if it fell into the wrong hand? Someone like Moriarty for example. That would be a disaster. John's mind jumped to another thing that really made him curious which was Sherlock's relationship with Harry. He wasn't truly their mother, right? John didn't think that magic would work that far.

As if Harry could read his mind, the other man explained. "I'm not Sherlock and Mycroft's biological parent but I raised them since they were children."

"Our parents died in accident," Mycroft said. "Harry saved us and since we don't have any relatives left, Harry took us in."

That explained a few things. Such as why Sherlock, being Sherlock, would call Harry by Mummy. Although John had to wonder about Harry's age. If he had to guest, he would say that Harry was seventeen years old. Twenty at the utmost. Was this the effect of the Elixir? Mycroft looked like he was in the mid thirty. And Sherlock... well, John knew that Sherlock was merely thirty three years old. That should make Mycroft forty since he was seven years elder than Sherlock. Did Mycroft drink the Elixir too? There were a lot of things that Harry, Mycroft and Sherlock didn't tell him. John realized that. But he wasn't prying type.

"We stayed here for a few years," Sherlock said. "Then we returned to England for schooling."

"I went to Eton," Mycroft said.

"Harrow," Sherlock said.

"And after that I went to Oxford." Mycroft said.

"Cambridge," Sherlock said again.

John saw the pattern there. Mycroft and Sherlock took their sibling rivalry to new whole level.

"We stay in London afterwards but we always visit Mummy regularly," Sherlock said again.

That was news for John. But he remembered that Sherlock often disappeared on his own.

"And what about you?" he asked Teddy.

"I stay with my grandmother in London." Teddy replied. "But we visit each other regularly."

Harry looked at his watch and said. "Dinner should be ready now."

They ate at open terrace. John was surprised when food appeared on the table. But no one seemed to care. It must be common occurrence. The food was really delicious and John enjoyed it. And Harry was a good host. He engaged John in conversation while the others added their opinion.

After dinner, he asked Sherlock when they were going to return to London. He was met with confused look.

"We're going to stay here for a few days," Sherlock said.

"But I have work at the clinic," he said.

"I have taken care of it, John," Mycroft interrupted.

"Thank you, Mycroft," Harry said.

Mycroft nodded at Harry.

There it was again. John had noticed that Sherlock called Harry with Mummy but Mycroft called Harry with his name. Not only that. Sherlock obviously considered Harry as his parent and the feeling was mutual. But the same couldn't be said for Mycroft. In fact, if John wanted to be honest, he would say that Mycroft treated Harry like a lover. And also, the words that Harry said. He loved Sherlock and Teddy as his own children. Harry didn't include Mycroft.

"It has been a long day," Harry said again, interrupting his train of thoughts. "You should go to rest, John. Sherlock, show John his room, will you?"

"Of course, Mummy." Sherlock said obediently. "Come on, John."

He trailed after Sherlock as the other man navigated around the house. The house was huge with antique decor, priceless ornaments and valuable paintings. At some point, Sherlock told him that certain ceilings were painted by Michelangelo.

Sherlock stopped suddenly.

John stopped after him.

"This is your room." Sherlock said. "Good night, John."

"Good night, Sherlock."

 

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

 

“Well, I’m going to my room then,” Teddy said after Sherlock and John left.

Harry nodded.

Only both of them were in the living room.

Harry turned to look at him.

My subordinates are investigating about the assassination attempt,” Mycroft began. “The one behind it will be dealt with.”

“Do inform me when it’s done,” Harry said.

“Of course.” Mycroft replied.

 

Author’s Note:

 

Hi!

It’s me again. I’m trying to write something new. I think next time I’m going to write about wizard John and it is Sherlock and Mycroft’s turn to be surprised.

Anyway, thanks for reading and please give reviews.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Sherlock Holmes and properties are owned by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Sherlock and properties are owned by BBC One, Mark Gatiss and Steven Moffat. Harry Potter and properties are owned by JK Rowling. I don't make money from writing this fanfiction. The story contains spoiler for both Sherlock and Harry Potter. Also there are quotes from novel, TV series, wikipedia and other sources.

 

**Everlasting Moon**

 

Chapter III

John woke up suddenly. He sat up groggily and rubbed a hand over his face. Where was he? He looked around him in confusion until yesterday memory sunk in. Assassin. Sherlock. Elixir of Life. Rome. Mummy. Dear Lord, so everything was real and here he thought that it was only a dream.

He looked around him. The bedroom was huge with set of sofa, table and two armchairs. There were two doors that John supposed led to bathroom and dressing room. John went to the bathroom. He opened the door on the left and stared in amazement. Even the bathroom was bigger than 221B. After taking bath, he went to the dressing room and found that the room was full with clothes. Clothes that fit him.

There was a note. _The clothes in the dressing room are all yours. You can wear whatever you like_. Shaking his head in wonder, he chose blue shirt and dark jeans. Alright, what should he so next?

There was a knock on the door and a moment later, Sherlock entered the room.

"Good," Sherlock said once the man saw that he was ready. "Come on," he said. "We're going to have breakfast soon."

Sherlock led him through the majestic villa. The place was huge. At one point they walked pass courtyard with giant pomegranate tree in the middle of it. Why pomegranate anyway? He mused as they arrived at the dining room. The dining room, as well as every room in the villa, was huge and decorated elegantly.

Teddy was already there, reading newspaper. "Good morning, Sherlock, John." Teddy said once he spotted them.

"Good morning," he replied, taking seat next to Sherlock.

Sherlock grunted his greeting at Teddy.

Teddy looked at him in amusement.

It was then John noticed that the picture on the paper was moving. "It moves!" he blurted out.

"Yes," Teddy replied. "Magical picture moves." He gestured to the paper where the woman in the picture waved her hand.

"Hermione Weasley Won Minister of Magic Election!” he read the headline. “Minister of Magic?" he asked.

"I told you that we have our own government." Teddy said. "This is second time in row for Aunt Hermione."

"She is your Aunt?" John asked, surprised. The woman in the picture couldn't be older than forty.

"She's Harry's best friend from school." Teddy explained. "So, all of us call her Aunt Hermione."

Harry looked like seventeen year old and this Hermione Weasley looked like she was forty. How old were these people actually?

"Wizards have longer lifespan than Muggle." Teddy said, noticing his confusion.

"Muggle?" John asked.

"People without magic. Like you, Sherlock and Mycroft.” Teddy explained. "Meanwhile, wizards have longer lifespan and thus we tend to age slower. I'm at the same age as Sherlock actually."

"Really?" John looked at Teddy and then at Sherlock and then at Teddy again. Teddy looked like he was in mid twenty.

"Honestly, John." Sherlock said for the first time. "You look so stupid now."

John glared at his best friend.

Teddy chuckled at them.

"Shut up, Teddy." Sherlock ordered.

Teddy shook his head fondly. "You never change," he told Sherlock.

John, eager to know about Sherlock's childhood, asked. "Did both of grow up together?"

"Yes," Teddy replied. "But I didn't live here. I live in London with my grandmother," he said.

"Your grandmother?"

"My parents have passed away." Teddy explained.

"I'm sorry to hear that," John said.

"Why would you?" Sherlock asked, puzzled.

John gave Sherlock dirty look.

"My father was best friend with Harry's father. When I was born, he made Harry my godfather." Teddy continued.

"You want to know how I came to live with Harry." Sherlock stated suddenly.

John flushed red in embarrassment.

"Oh, please." Sherlock snorted. "It's all written in your face."

"Fine," he admitted. "I'm curious, alright. But you don't need to tell me anything if you don't want to. I mean, it's family matter after all."

"It's not a big deal." Sherlock said. "The car accident happened in winter. Mummy found us. My parents didn't make it but Mummy managed to save me and Mycroft."

John stared at Sherlock.

"I was three at that time and Mycroft was ten." Sherlock continued. "Since we don't have any relatives left, Mummy took us in."

"But why you call him Mummy?" John blurted out before he could stop himself.

"Go on, tell him Sherlock." Teddy said. He looked very amused.

Sherlock scowled at him.

"Harry is my godfather," Teddy said when he saw no indication of Sherlock talking. "So Sherlock thought he should call Harry something different. He came up with Mummy."

Sherlock picked up his knife and threw it at Teddy.

"Sherlock!" John yelled at his flatmate.

Teddy waved his wand lazily and turned the knife into paper bird. "Your loss, Sherlock." He said, grinning.

Sherlock scowled darkly at Teddy.

John thought that Sherlock and Teddy's interaction looked more brotherly than Sherlock and Mycroft's interaction. Maybe because they were in same age. Besides that, Mycroft was always so serious.

"Good morning," Harry joined them for breakfast. He was dressed in white shirt and grey trousers. Mycroft as usual, stood next to Harry.

"Good morning." Teddy replied.

"Good morning, Mummy."

"Morning."

Harry glanced at the newspaper briefly.

"Aunt Hermione wants to see you," Teddy informed his godfather.

"Yes, I've talked with her." Harry replied.

It was then when food appeared on the table. It was traditional English breakfast. Apparently, everyone was waiting for Harry.

"Sherlock," Harry began. "Why don't you take John for sightseeing? There are countless places to visit in Rome."

"It's fine," John hurriedly said. "I can have a walk by myself."

"Nonsense." Harry waved his hand. His ruby ring glinted in his finger. "Besides that, Sherlock knows every corner of this city."

It was finally agreed on that Sherlock would take John around.

"I need to return to London," Teddy told them after breakfast. "See you later." He activated his Portkey and was gone a second later.

"I've prepared the car," Mycroft said.

"Please return home for dinner." Harry said. "Nicolas and Perenelle will come to visit us later."

"We have informed them about the situation with John," Mycroft drawled out.

"They want to meet you," Harry explained.

John nodded. "Okay," he said. "Are they another member of your family?"

Harry and Mycroft exchanged look.

"We consider them as our family," Harry replied. "We'll talk again later. Now, go and have fun." He said, smiling.

 

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

 

John gaped at the red, gleaming car in front of him. "It is Ferrari!" he croaked out.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Obviously," he said disdainfully.

"You've got Ferrari," Johns said.

"Yes, as everyone with eyes can see it," Sherlock drawled out. "Now, come on. You're wasting time."

John entered the car. Sherlock started the engine.

“That is Quirinal Palace.” Sherlock said. “It is known in Italian as the Palazzo del Quirinale or simply Quirinale. The Palace is a current official residence of the President of the Italian Republic. It has housed thirty Popes, four Kings of Italy and twelve presidents of the Italian Republic.”

Wow. John was impressed. It was the first place they passed and John naturally asked if Sherlock knew the owner of the said place.

"Our first destination is Colosseum."

"Colosseum?" John asked.

Sherlock looked at him, annoyed. "Seriously, John, what is wrong with you today?"

"Well, pardon me if I think that is weird that you, Sherlock Holmes, would give me tour around Rome today." John said dryly.

"Mummy said so." Sherlock muttered. "Besides, I grew up here."

That softened John. Who would have thought that Sherlock was such a ‘Mummy’ boy. "Alright then, Mr. Tour Guide," he said. "Lets' go then."

Sherlock scowled at him.

John laughed. "So, you, uh, were raised here?" he asked once he stopped laughing.

"Yes," Sherlock said. "Mummy brought us here. When I was thirteen, I returned to England for schooling and live there ever since."

They didn't talk anymore. Not for long, they arrived at Colosseum.

"The Colosseum, originally the Flavian Amphitheatre is an elliptical amphitheatre in the centre of the city of Rome, the largest ever built in the Roman Empire, built of concrete and stone. Its construction started in 72 AD under the emperor Vespasian and was completed in 80 AD under Titus, with further modifications being made during Domitian's reign." Sherlock told him.

Okay. John was a bit surprised. Sherlock didn't know about astronomy but he knew about Roman's history.

"Capable of seating 50,000 spectators, the Colosseum was used for gladiatorial contests and public spectacles such as mock sea battles, animal hunts, executions, re-enactments of famous battles, and dramas based on Classical mythology. The building ceased to be used for entertainment in the early medieval era. It was later reused for such purposes as housing, workshops, quarters for a religious order, a fortress, a quarry, and a Christian shrine. Now, it stays partially ruined because of damage caused by devastating earthquakes and stone-robbers. The Colosseum is one of Rome's most popular tourist attractions." Sherlock finished. "Unfortunately," he added a moment later. "The tourists are really annoying."

John rolled his eyes. But still, they explored the place and John managed to take many pictures.

"We're going to Trevi Fountain the next," Sherlock told him.

"Alright." John agreed. He was playing tourist today and was quite content to leave everything in Sherlock's hand. Normally, he would be cautious because Sherlock after all didn't think like any normal people. But with Mummy's presence, his best friend turned into big kid. So, it was safe. For now, at least.

Trevi Fountain probably was the most famous fountains in the world. As expected, the place was crowded by tourists and Sherlock started to fidget in annoyance. John took many pictures and before they left, he threw a coin into the fountain. A traditional legend held that if visitors threw a coin into the fountain, they were ensured a return to Rome.

Sherlock, of course, scoffed at him. "Mummy lives here." He said. "We're going to visit him many times in the future."

"We?" John asked.

Sherlock looked at him as if he was stupid. Well, for Mycroft and Sherlock, almost everyone else was stupid. "You're part of family now."

That had been gnawing on John's mind for a while. "I assume that you and Mycroft have drunk it." He said. It being the Elixir of Life. "Assuming the assassin didn't attack us, would I find out about the secret?"

"Yes," Sherlock replied immediately. "You're my best friend. If I can, I want to spend my life forever with you."

"Uhm…" John didn't know what to say.

"Criminality won't stop and I expect the police to stay ignorant, as always." Sherlock said again. "We need to stay low profile for years but then we can emerge again. Fighting crime. It won't be boring."

"You have thought about this before," John said in realization.

"Of course." Sherlock said earnestly.

From the way he was talking, it was if he was a child planning for adventure with his best friend. And for Sherlock, it was probably what he thought about the whole situation.

"Well, what do you think?" Sherlock asked.

"That sounds dangerous," he replied.

"You love it," Sherlock said as a matter of fact.

"Yeah, I do." John admitted.

Then again, his life had become intertwined with Sherlock. If Sherlock truly wanted to do this, John supposed he would follow his best friend to the end, like he always did.

"Great," Sherlock said, satisfied. "Now, we're going for lunch."

"Lunch?" John raised his eyebrow. He didn’t think there was a day where Sherlock Holmes would have lunch by his own initiative.

"Mummy insists that I have lunch every day," Sherlock grumbled.

"Good for you," John replied.

Sherlock glared at him.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

 

They went to Osteria, a restaurant near the Trevi Fountain. Sherlock did all the order since John couldn't speak Italian. The waiter showed up a few moments later with fried calamari, fettuccine alfredo and salads. For dessert, they had tiramisu and gelato.

After lunch, they went to Saint Peter's square. The place was a massive plaza located directly in front of St. Peter's Basilica in the Vatican City, the papal enclave inside Rome.

The last destination was catacombs of Rome. The Catacombs of Rome were ancient catacombs, underground burial places under Rome, of which there were at least forty, some discovered only in recent decades. Roman catacombs were made up of underground passages (ambulacra), out of whose walls graves (loculi) were dug. These loculi, generally laid out vertically (pilae), could contain one or more bodies.

Sherlock took him to Domitilla Catacombs which was the oldest of Rome's underground burial networks, and the only ones to still contain bones.

"I suspect you often came here," John commented, looking at the skulls and bones that adorned the walls.

Sherlock was silent.

John turned to look at him.

"You're right.” Sherlock admitted. “I like to deduce the cause of death from the remains."

John wasn't surprised at all to hear it.

 

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

 

They returned to the villa to get ready before the dinner was started.

"How was your day, John?" Harry asked him.

"It was fine." He replied. "We visited Colosseum, Trevi Fountain, Saint Peter's Square and Domitilla Catacombs."

"Ah, yes." Harry said. "He does love the place."

"Typical of Sherlock," Mycroft commented.

Harry rose from his seat suddenly. "Nicholas, Perenelle."

John turned to look at the newcomer. Nicholas and Perenelle both had blond hair with blue eyes. They looked like they were in mid twenty.

“Harry,” Nicholas shook Harry’s hand.

“It has been a long time,” Perenelle said, smiling warmly.

“How are you?” Harry asked.

“We’re fine,” Perenelle answered.

"Let me introduce you to Dr. Watson. He is a friend of Sherlock." Harry said.

"John Watson," he said.

Nicholas and Perenelle shook hands with him. "Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel."

Something clicked on his mind. "Nicholas Flamel?" he asked. John remembered reading about Nicholas Flamel in storybook when he was a child. He was the famous alchemist who created Philosopher Stone. "The Nicholas Flamel?" he asked again, only to be sure.

Nicholas smiled at him in amusement. "Yes," the man replied.

 

Author's Note:

 

Thanks for reading my fic and please give reviews. I got the inspiration for this when I read fic about Sherlock and John's retirement. It's a really good fic although I regret reading it since I hate sad story. In the story, even though Sherlock's body was old but his mind was still as sharp as ever but unfortunately, he couldn't beat time. John passed away first and Sherlock followed later. It's very well written and I have to admit that I might cry a bit after reading it.

So I decided to write story where they could live forever if they want to. And as for Mycroft, he could become the ruler of the world, the one who control history, much like many conspiracy theories out there.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Sherlock Holmes and properties are owned by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Sherlock and properties are owned by BBC One, Mark Gatiss and Steven Moffat. Harry Potter and properties are owned by JK Rowling. I don't make money from writing this fanfiction. The story contains spoiler for both Sherlock and Harry Potter. Also there are quotes from novel, TV series, wikipedia and other sources.

 

**Everlasting Moon**

 

Chapter IV

 

“You’re an alchemist who discovered the philosopher stone and achieved immortality,” John blurted out.

“Not really,” Nicholas Flamel replied.

“What?” he asked, frowning.

“Elixir of Life only prolongs the lifespan of the drinker,” Nicholas added.

He remembered that Harry had told him about that.

“John watches too many fantasy films.” Sherlock drawled out.

Nicholas chuckled. “Ah yes.”

He glared at Sherlock.

Sherlock smirked back at him.

In film, the elixir of life, also known as elixir of immortality and sometimes equated with the philosopher's stone, was a mythical potion that, when drunk from a certain cup at a certain time, supposedly granted the drinker eternal life and or eternal youth.

“I created Elixir of Life hundred years ago,” Nicholas explained. “But I’m not the only one who managed to create it.”

“Really?”

“Man always fears death for many reasons. They seek the way to escape it.”

“The Elixir has had hundreds of names,” Perenelle Flamel said. “Amrita, the elixir of life, also known to Sikhs as ‘Amrit, the Nectar of Immortality’, has been described in the Hindu scriptures. In China, many tales told about the eternal youth after eating ‘the peach of immortality’ and in ancient China, various emperors sought the fabled elixir with varying results.”

“Death is an end. I think man fear death because they fear the unknown. They aren’t sure what may happen to them after they died.” Nicholas said.

“And what about you?” he blurted out. There must be a reason for the Flamels too.

Nicholas and Perenelle stared at him.

Mycroft sighed.

“Err...” he trailed off. “I didn’t mean to-“

“It’s alright,” Nicholas said. “Both of us are scholar. We thirst for knowledge. There is so much to learn.”

“And yet not enough time.” Perenelle continued. “We’re plagued with the problem for a long time. And finally we solved it.”

“We finally succeeded creating Elixir of Life.” Nicholas said. “As long as we drink it, we’ll live.”

“And what happen when you stop drinking it?” he asked, even though he pretty much knew the answer.

“You died,” Sherlock said bluntly, giving him ‘are you an idiot look’. John was really familiar with the look since Sherlock bestowed it to majority of human being he ever met.

“There’s a limit to it though,” Nicholas warned.

“Eh?”

“Death is inevitable.” Harry said.

“It’s true.” Nicholas said. “We live on borrowed time after all.”

“Just how old are you?” he asked curiously.

“Almost eight hundreds,” Perenelle answered easily.

What? John stared at both of them in disbelief. Wow! Eight hundred years? It was hard to believe that because Nicholas and Perenelle looked like they were in mid twenty. But eight hundred years? What had they done in those times?

“Death is nothing but the next great adventure,” Harry muttered.

“Yes,” Nicholas said thoughtfully. “I suppose that’s true.”

Nicholas and Perenelle explained a lot of things to ease his mind until Harry interfered their conversation.

“You should be ready for dinner,” Harry said.

John almost forgot about it. “Well, excuse us.” He said, dragging Sherlock away with him.

 

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

 

Dinner was a joyful affair. John swapped stories with the Flamels. They had so many stories from their travel all around the world. Meanwhile, John told them about his army days, his meeting with Sherlock and his life with Sherlock.

“I actually read your blog,” Nicholas informed him.

"Really?” he asked, surprised.

“Yes,” Perenelle said. “Harry informed us about it.”

“It’s very interesting,” Nicholas said. “My favourite is A Study in Pink.”

“You have way with words.” Perenelle added.

“Thank you,” he said.

Sherlock snorted.

He looked at Sherlock pointedly. Sherlock was always annoyed whenever people talked about his blog because Sherlock’s own website got fewer hits.

Sherlock was sulking now.

After dinner, Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel bid their goodbye. They also promised to keep in contact with John and that John could call him anytime if he had any question.

 

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

 

The third day in Rome, he and Sherlock went to Roman Forum, Pantheon and Vatican Museum.

Their first destination was the Roman Forum, the very centre of ancient Rome. Throughout the lifespan of Roman civilisation the Forum served as the focus of political, civic and religious life. From magnificent temples and triumphal arches to the very seat of power in the Senate house, the Roman Forum was the very centre of it all.

Today much of the grandeur of the Roman Forum had been lost to the ages, as the buildings were pillaged and the material used elsewhere. Some of the key structures had survived due to their conversion to Churches or other uses, like the Curia Julia and the Temple of Antoninus and Faustina, but others had left just a shadow of their past glories, hinting at the magnificence of a by-gone age.

The place was full with tourists. Sherlock as expected started to whine about overexposure of stupidity.

Sherlock also started deducing people. “That idiot over there came here with his mistress,” he said out loud. “He’s impotent so the girl will leave him soon after he’s penniless.”

The man in question glared at Sherlock. The girl blushed bright red. The other tourists however looked at the pair in delight.

He dragged Sherlock away before Sherlock started another deduction that would end up in public brawl. John could already picture the newspaper headline. ‘ _Massive Fight at Roman Forum Caused by A Pair of Idiotic British Tourists._ ’ It was so embarrassing and John would never live it down.

Their next destination was Pantheon. The Pantheon in Rome was one of the most famous and well-preserved ancient buildings in the world. Originally built by Marcus Agrippa in 25BC, the Pantheon served as a temple to the many gods of Rome. The original Pantheon was destroyed by the great fire of 80AD and the structure which stands today was completed around 125AD during the reign of the Emperor Hadrian.

Today, the Pantheon stood as a magnificent site in central Rome, and one of the most popular destinations for tourists. The Pantheon’s vast structure was topped by the spectacular original domed roof which contained a circular opening at the peak. Made of cast concrete, it was a monumental engineering feat that was a testament to the technical expertise of the Roman Empire. Indeed, the roof of the Pantheon remained the largest dome in the world until the 15th century.

Learning from his past experience, John only took necessary pictures and decided to continue to their last destination.

The last visit was the Vatican Museums which housed some of the most impressive and important historical artefacts and works of art in the world. Originally the site of the Vatican Museums was used for papal palaces, but they were now a series of galleries in Vatican City.

From the exemplary collection of classical statues in the Pio-Clementine Museum to the beautiful frescos by Raphael in the Raphael Rooms, the Vatican Museums had an extensive array of pieces from many historic periods. The Vatican Museums also housed a Gregorian Egyptian Museum containing funerary pieces, stelae and statues bearing hieroglyphics, a reconstruction of the Canopus of Hadrian’s Villa and mummies as well as reliefs and inscriptions from Assyrian palaces.  
  
Unlike the other place, Sherlock was content in the Egyptian part of the museum. He even started giving monologue about mummification process.

The older tourists who understood English looked horrified but the younger generation were mesmerized by Sherlock.

“And they took out the brain just like that?” one boy exclaimed loudly in American accent. “That’s so cool!

His friends nodded in agreement.

“It was very fascinating how the ancient Egyptian came with the process,” Sherlock went on. “I was thinking of replicating it but I haven’t found the test subject yet. Molly always refuses to give me fresh corpse.”

That was the cue that John had to drag Sherlock out of there. He had to save Sherlock from homicidal parents.

John also made a note to speak with Molly. There would be no corpse for Sherlock, at all. He didn’t want to go home and find mummy in his kitchen.

The star attraction of the Vatican Museums was the Sistine Chapel. The Sistine was a chapel in the Apostolic Palace, the official residence of the Pope, in Vatican City. Today it was the site of the Papal conclave, the process by which a new pope was selected. The fame of the Sistine Chapel lies mainly in the frescos that decorated the interior, and most particularly the Sistine Chapel ceiling and The Last Judgement by Michaelangelo.

 

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

 

“We’re going back to London tomorrow,” Sherlock announced during dinner that night.

“So soon?” Harry asked.

“I’ll come to see you,” Sherlock said hurriedly.

“Don’t forget your promise,” Harry said.

“I won’t, Mummy.” Sherlock replied angelically.

John rolled his eyes.

 

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

 

After dinner, they returned to their respective rooms.

John actually didn’t have anything to pack. 

Someone knocked the door.

He went to open it.

“Hello, John.” Harry said. “I hope I’m not intruding you.”

“Oh, no.” He said. “Please come in.”

They sat on the couch.

“What can I do for you?” he asked diplomatically.

Harry smiled. “I want to thank you for looking after Sherlock all this time.”

“He’s my best friend.” He replied instantly.

Harry sighed. “Everyone knows Sherlock isn’t an easy child. He could be quite handful.”

“That’s understatement of the century,” he said dryly.

Harry laughed. “Indeed,” he said. “I was surprised when I hear that you befriend Sherlock and stayed by his side.”

“You thought I would run away,” he guessed correctly.

“You wouldn’t be the first to do so,” Harry said.

John knew that. “I made my choice a long time ago,” he said. “And I’ve no intention of leaving him to fend for himself. God knows what he would get up to.”

Harry smiled suddenly. “I’m glad to hear that.” He got up from the couch. “It’s very late now. I shall take my leave then. Have a good rest, John.”

 

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

 

The next morning, they left after breakfast.

“Take care of yourself, Sherlock, and you too John.” Harry said.

“I’ll,” he replied. “And thanks for letting me stay here.”

“You’re family too now,” Harry replied easily.

Next turn was Mycroft who chose to speak in Latin so John didn’t understand anything he said. But Sherlock did and he looked quite annoyed at his elder brother. Sherlock looked relieved when Mycroft and Harry were done talking.

“Are you ready?” Mycroft asked.

“We’re waiting for you!” Sherlock retorted sharply.

Ignoring Sherlock’s displeasure, Mycroft held out a pen.

They touched it and a moment later, they were back in Mycroft’s study in London.

“Let’s go home,” Sherlock muttered.

“My driver will take both of you back to Baker Street,” Mycroft offered.

“Come John.” Sherlock already strolled away. “I hope Lestrade has a good case. I’m bored!”

John grinned inwardly. Nothing had changed. They were still Sherlock Holmes and John Watson, world only consulting detective and his blogger. “See you, Mycroft,” he said before he went after Sherlock.

A car was waiting for them, just like Mycroft said.

John took a deep breath. “Welcome back to London.”

Sherlock looked at him and both of them grinned.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

 

“Sir.” Anthea said. “This is the report you requested.”

“Thank you,” Mycroft replied.

Anthea nodded and left his study.

Mycroft opened the folder and began to read the file. He raised his eyebrow. This wasn’t what he had expected. He had to inform Harry about this.

 

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

 

The villa was quiet when he arrived there.

“Tippy,” he called.

“Yes, Master Mycroft?” the house elf said.

“Where is Harry?” he asked.

“Master Harry is in his study, Master Mycroft.” Tippy replied.

“Thank you, Tippy.”

The house elf bowed and disappeared from his sight, presumably to the kitchen.

Mycroft went to Harry study. He knocked the door and waited.

“Come in,” Harry called.

Mycroft opened the door and walked in.

“Good evening, Mycroft,” Harry said. He didn’t look surprised at all to see him here.

“Evening, Harry,” he said and sat across Harry.

Harry set aside the quill in his hand. He was writing on the big and thick book of his when Mycroft came in. Mycroft had seen the book numerous times but he never managed to decipher the language Harry used. He asked about it once and Harry said that it was language of the dead. Mycroft didn’t pry anymore and Harry never provided any further information.

“It’s about the killer who tried to kill Sherlock and Dr. Watson,” he said.

“Was it an act of revenge?” Harry asked.

“The killer used to work as bodyguard for influential politician who is in a jail now because of Sherlock.” Mycroft said. “The man’s neighbours reported that he was last seen with unknown men. Those men turned out to be pureblood wizards.”

Harry sighed. “Not another radical pureblood again. I’ve had enough of those.”

Back then, when news got out that the Chosen One had adopted non magical children, some radical purebloods were the most vocal in their disagreement. They considered the adoption as grave insult towards wizarding society. But to go against Harry directly would be an act of suicide, so they decided to use non magical person to do their dirty job. If the man failed, they could wash their hand. Unfortunately, Mycroft’s subordinates were very thorough with their investigation.

“They promised him a big sum of gold if he success in his mission.” Mycroft continued.

“The wards around 221 Baker Street protect its inhabitants from dark magic,” Harry said. “So, they’re forced to use Muggle way.”

“Yes.” Mycroft said, debating inwardly if he should confirmed Harry about his deduction.

“Is there something else you wish to discuss with me, Mycroft?” Harry asked.

He stared at Harry for a long time. “You put wards to protect Sherlock. You also monitor the place,” he said.

“You’re right.” Harry said. He looked confused.

“The ward would have alerted you if something happen. You knew that Moriarty went to see Sherlock before I did.”

“Ah.”

“Hypothetically,” Mycroft said, “the ward alerted you and you went right away to 221 B. But, instead of helping Sherlock, you decided that the situation work in your favour and left when you’re certain that Dr. Watson’s life wasn’t in danger.”

Harry’s look of confusion melted away. It was replaced by amusement.

Human had different faces they used on different occasion and different people. For example, Harry had his loving parent face he reserved for Teddy and Sherlock. Meanwhile, in front of Ron and Hermione, he was the best friend in the world. But the all powerful wizard face Harry had now was the one Mycroft disliked the most.

“You were too calm,” he replied immediately, “and too knowing.” Harry sounded shocked to hear about the incident when he and Sherlock called Harry but something was off.  It was later that he realized what was wrong. He didn’t feel any anger from Harry. If something bad were happen to Sherlock, everyone involved would feel Harry’s wrath. Moriarty’s crime empire crumbled like dust after all.

“That’s my hypothesis,” he concluded.

“Interesting,” Harry said with a smile on his face. “You have quite an imagination. And I always thought that you’re too serious for your own good.”

Harry wouldn’t admit to anything and Mycroft knew this.

“I’ve reported this incident to the Auror,” he said suddenly, changing the topic.

Harry didn’t even blink. “Good,” he commented.

“I’ve called Aunt Hermione and Teddy too,” Myrcoft said.

Harry’s book suddenly glowed red for a second. Harry looked at the opened page and frowned. “I apologize, Mycroft, but I have urgent matter to attend now.”

“Of course,” he got up from his seat and walked towards the door. He paused in his track and turned to look at Harry, “You said that death is inevitable.”

“Yes?”

“Does that apply to you?”

“Every beginning has an end,” Harry said, eyes lit with bright glow. It made him looked otherworldly. “Death will happen to me one day.” He smiled, amused and secretive. “And on that day, we will depart as equal.”

 

Author's Note:

 

Thanks for reading my fic and please give reviews.

 

 


End file.
